What Does a Threat Look Like?
by Zyphra
Summary: It turns out that Sylar might not have been the worst threat to the Heroes. This new danger will force them all to join forces, perhaps with those they never wanted to. However, the heroes have no idea what they're dealing with. Intro up please review!
1. Intro

I have a plot for this story and all, but I guess I'm posting this chapter to see the reaction. If you like it please review, even if you don't like it please review and tell me why. I don't want to write the fanfic unless people like it...

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the works I reference in this fanfic.

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A candle guttered silently, its last few flickers choking into nothing. The steady ticking of the wooden clock that hung from the wall seemed magnified a hundred times. It was the only sound that penetrated the thick blanket-like silence.

_Tick…_

_Tock…_

_Tick…_

_Tock-_

And then there was nothing. The clock had come to a complete halt, its face frozen and unmoving. All was still for a single, surreal moment until suddenly, a hazy ripple appeared in the air just beside the small coffee table that the dead candle sat upon. The air shivered and distorted violently, colors appearing and mingling together. Then, abruptly, a solid dark shape emerged, ungracefully from the wavering haze of air. As soon as the figure was completely through the shifting unsteady fog, the mist evaporated, leaving the figure alone in this new setting. Instantly it staggered towards the candle's table, seeking for something to support itself as it slowly began sinking towards the floor. Each step was more unsure than the last. The figure appeared weak and slumped over and a rasping sound escaped from its lips. As its shaky fingers clutched at the table the candle was knocked over and it fell to the floor, it's silver holder clanking loudly into what had been perfect silence. As if waiting for that cue, another shape appeared to come out of thin air, this time without the rippling haze and blurry fog. This newest figure stood upright and confident, ancient katana held unsheathed in a hand that definitely knew how to use the weapon. His eyes were cold as they swept quickly throughout the room. They came to rest on the withering figure. A dark laugh colored a masculine voice. The Future Hiro let the corner of his mouth turn up in a grin.

"And you'd just been going on about how easy I had it with my power." Future Hiros voice was lighter now, but still with an uncertain hint of danger laced in it.

"It's like someone tried to effing squeeze my lungs into nothin'." The shaking figure of the man who'd arrived first attempted to straighten up. He instantly doubled over and wheezed harshly.

"Maybe next time you'll think before you scorn my abilities." Future Hiro replied thoughtfully, watching as the moonlight that filtered through the window played on the blade of his katana. At that second a small cracking sound was heard in the room. His eyes shot instantly back to the other man's. Someone was approaching. F.Hiro brought his sword up into position with a single, swift motion, his dark eyes locking onto the direction of the noise. By this time the other man had recovered enough to stand fully up. He had an impressive frame at an even six feet, and he was reasonably buff with an even amount of muscles. He did have a lanky look about him though. His blond hair was messily spiked in a way that gave the hint that it had not been done on purpose. His blue-grey eyes had followed F.Hiro's towards the source of the sound.

F.Hiro kept his blade raised, ready to bring it upon whatever person would exit the hallway to see them there. He stopped dead in his movements when he saw who emerged from around the corner.

"She's not here. There's no one here now. They haven't been gone more than an hour though by the looks of it. " Nikki's face, or perhaps Jessica's, twisted into a mask of criticism when she noted the raised Katana. "Honestly Hiro, I don't see how you plan to make friends by acting this way." Her eyes turned to focus on the third person in the room. "And you Kape, what are you even doing here in the first place?"

Kape's voice flared up as the blood rushed to his face. "This is my deal too! We came here to find out what the hell's up with this bit-." The scowl on Nikki/Jessica's face made his voice falter to a stop. He sighed exaggeratedly before changing topics. He pretended to examine his fingernails, revealing that he was missing his right little finger. "We might as well look around, there has to be something here!"

Nikki/Jessica's face was harsh as her eyes moved back to F.Hiro's. "There is one thing you should see…" Easily she turned on her heel and moved back towards the hall she's entered from, her long blond hair flipping out behind her.

**Three Months Earlier**

Mohinder took his time navigating through the wreckage of the destroyed house. From what he could tell, it had never been a very nice house to begin with. It was situated in a rundown neighborhood on the edge of L.A. He had instantly felt better about having Parkman accompany him as he felt the sharp eyes of grungy men lurking menacingly in the shadows on his back. Mohinder had hardly given his safety a thought however. Even when the taxi they'd taken here sped off like a bat out of hell his thoughts had been on the house torn to shreds before him. He could hear Parkmen's steps behind him and he turned his head to speak to him.

"See the frame here? There's not a trace of charring…" He bent down towards the piece of the house's frame, eyes tracing the texture of the wood. "Whatever caused this, it wasn't a fire." Mohinder took a few more steps farther into the house. From somewhere behind him he could hear Parkmen warning someone to keep moving and that there was nothing interesting going on here. Mohinder's hand reached down towards the ground to pick something up. He turned towards Parkmen, his eyes examining the off-white object in his hand.

"What is it?" Parkmen asked impatiently after a moment of silence. He really didn't need to ask however, seeing as he could pull the answer out of Mohinder's mind anyway. He guessed it was just a courtesy thing. He didn't like standing here in this neighborhood. His hand was glued to his holster, fingers clasped around his gun reassuringly.

"It's a candlestick." Before Parkmen could look into his mind for what was so fascinating about the candle, Mohinder answered the question. "Look how it's cut cleanly in two, as if by a blade or something." Parkmen's eyes wandered away from Mohinder and the candle to gaze around the house. He felt a freezing chill run up his spine. An old model of a microwave, sliced down the middle. The kitchen table, shredded into shavings. He saw something glinting on the floor, something slightly reflective. Parkmen moved towards it suspiciously. It wasn't until he bent down to look at it that he realized it was a photograph. Gently he picked it up, but it was relatively undamaged. Before he had a second to scrutinize the subject of the photo, a gut-wrenching scream sounded from out in the street. Parkmen stuffed the picture into a pocket and whirled around, gun drawn and ready in his hand. Mohinder had frozen, his hand placed on a broken clock he'd been observing. The two of them rushed through what had once been the door of the house out into the street. Mohinder's eyes searched frantically for the source of the scream, Parkmen quickly swung the barrel of his gun around, looking for a threat. Instantly his mind was pummeled with the echoing screams of others nearby who had already seen what had happened. Though both men had hardened stomachs, being a scientist and a police officer, neither could help the feeling of nausea that engulfed them at the scene in the street.

"My dear God." Mohinder whispered raggedly.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to Light at the End of the Tunnel and hio for reviewing, it means a lot for a new story!

Also, I'm looking for a new title if anyone can think of anything good.

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Heroes or anything like that

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The scene before Matt Parkman and Dr. Suresh was devastatingly grotesque. It had once been a human, at one point. The sounds of retching were in the air as Mohinder stepped away slowly, his hand over his mouth and his eyes wide. Parkman had gradually lowered his gun to stare awestricken at the victim. He supposed it had been a man, but something had sure done a number to him. What could he have possibly done to deserve this? The street was painted deep scarlet and many people were rushing into the broken down houses on either side of the street. Other people were rushing out of the houses to inspect the cause of the commotion. They couldn't rip their eyes away from it. Neither of the two men could tell how long they'd stood there, just trying not to stare. It was as if whatever had ripped apart the insides of the house they'd just been in had approached the man and done the same thing.

"I- I don't understand…" Mohinder said, his voice weak. "He could have been perfectly innocent." His eyes were shadowed with pity.

Parkman was silent for a moment. What could you say? He'd seen stories like this before, every experienced cop had. His eyes turned to the dark pavement at his feet, thrusting his hands into his pockets. As he did so, he brushed against the cell phone in his pocket. He pulled it out and flipped it open in a swift movement. He paused for a moment, considering. "Maybe we should call Bennet."

Mohinder's eyes flashed upward towards Matt, and flickered hesitantly at the scene. He averted his gaze to the buildings around them and answered. "Yes, he would be the most likely to know what this could be. I have no idea what sort of ability could have caused this. I suppose if I thought just a little more and perhaps had my books…" His voice trailed off as the sound of sirens wailed faintly in the distance, steadily coming closer. He heard the electronic beeping of the keypad on Matt's cell phone.

"Hi, yeah, could we get a taxi on the corner of Fischer and Green? Yeah, I know, yes, yup, bye." From the sound of it he'd hung up before the taxi serviceman had finished talking.

Mohinder sighed. "You could be a little more courteous, it's not a very thankful job." He caught the startled look Matt gave him. He didn't need to say any more. If Parkman really wanted to know he wouldn't have to ask, he was a mind reader. Quietly the two men slipped into the shadows of a house, crossing some dead lawns until they got to the corner of Fischer and Green. Ha, the cop had left the scene of a crime, who'd have thought it? It was all even anyway, his whole department had been jackasses to him after the whole Bennet affair at Primatech. Just thinking about it now made Matt clench his fist, his nails biting into his palm. The neighborhood they were in now was a little more agreeable. The lawns were greener and the houses looked more expensive. They could hear a teeter-tooter creaking in someone's backyard. Matt pulled out his cell phone once more, pressed a button and held the phone up to his ear. Mohinder's looked at him sourly.

"You have Bennet on speed dial?" He asked slightly aghast. Parkman just tossed a glare at him as the person on the other end picked up the phone.

"This is Parkman and Dr. Suresh. Yes, we got to the house and checked the first floor, but there's no one there. The entire interior looks like it's been ripped apart by something." There was a pause. "Yes, or someone. Well, whatever did it gave some unidentified person the same treatment out on the street." Pause. "Yes, the most disgusting thing I've ever seen, absolutely ripped to shreds." Pause "No, I was hoping you'd know of someone. It's not an insignificant ability, whatever it may be. I just hope Sylar doesn't get to them first…"

But in fact, Mohinder and Parkman didn't need to worry, for at that moment, Sylar, formerly Gabriel Gray was far from L.A. He was deeper south, Mississippi in fact.

**Same time, Greenville, Mississippi.**

The old woman outside had been easy to slip around, he hadn't even needed any of his abilities. She'd seemed wrapped up in her own little world, singing some old song, probably from her youth. Sylar had slipped around to the back of the house, opening the white picket fence without touching it. Soundlessly he moved over the lawn and around the carport, searching for some kind of back door or even a window. The backyard was decidedly less decorated than the front had been. There was a tall, old tree with the remains of what had probably been a tree fort in some other decade. Age and storms had turned it into broken firewood trapped in the tree's branches. There were a few plastic lawn chairs circled around a table and a watering can sat next to the backdoor of the house. Backdoor. Sylar was at it in a flash, his oversensitive ears quickly picking up the sound of voices within. He stayed silent and perfectly still outside the door, listening.

"What are meridians?"

"Yes! That is correct."

"I'll take Traditional Eastern Medicine for $1600."

"Research shows that acupuncture increases brain production of these hormones, natural painkillers."

A voice from inside the house, obviously not on the television spoke up. It sounded feminine and weak, like one who was suffering from a cold. It also had the drawl of an accent. "Endorphins."

"What are endorphins?" Said the electronic voice on the tv.

"Yes, the body's natural pain killers."

"I'll take Prominent 20th Century Women for $1200."

"The entries in her diary were addressed to Kitty."

The voice spoke again, just before the person on tv did. "Anne Frank."

"Who is Anne Frank?"

"Yes!"

"Prominent 20th Century Women for $1600."

"In 1978 she established the Digit Fund, later renamed for her, to raise money to protect gorillas from poaching"

This time there was a pause, the person inside obviously didn't know the answer.

"Who is Diane Fossey?"

"Yes!"

"The Human Body for $1200."

"A part of the brain located under the temporal lobe. It forms a part of the limbic system and plays a part in memory and spatial navigation."

This time a new voice spoke up, a smirk coloring his lips as he approached the figure sitting in the big stuffed armchair watching tv from behind. "What is the hippocampus?"

The figure on the arm chair remained still. Sylar had expected it to at least whirl around to face him or something. The lack of reaction he'd received made him curious. Ominously he circled around the chair to see the person sitting in it. His eyes widened slightly as he saw the woman seated there. She was covered in an old afghan. From what he could see of her she was a petite lady. Her hair was a neutral brown, but looked unkempt and scraggly. The hair fell tangled into a pair of huge brown eyes that were set in a slightly rounded face. As he scrutinized her pixie form he couldn't help but notice the dullness of her eyes and hair and the pale, pasty color of her skin. With the speed of a snail those dull eyes came to look upon him. She turned her head weakly towards him and he couldn't help but think of a blind person even though she could see perfectly well. After a moment her dry lips parted and she spoke.

"What do you want?" The words weren't fiery or demanding, they were just… Words. Hair fell into her eyes, but she didn't bother to push the limp strands away. Sylar thought for a moment, his gaze hard and calculating. He took another step farther into the room. He could tell they were the only ones in the house. The old lady out front was the one closest to their location, but he could still hear her singing to herself and working on the lawn. He decided to take a chance. She really didn't look in any sort to run away from him anyhow.

"Your ability." He watched her pale face for her reaction and was shocked when he saw it turn to contentment. Her head rolled back into the headrest of the chair and a pitiful smile gently touched her cracked lips.

"Really? That's… Wonderful." She sounded genuine and she sighed lightly before shutting her large brown eyes. The tv still played in the background, now it was some advertisement for cleaning chemicals. Sylar narrowed his eyes.

"You don't want it?" She wouldn't be the first who didn't want their power. His telekinesis had been taken from someone like that. He'd been an undeserving fool. Well, _now_ he was a dead fool. Her eyes snapped open and locked on his. He felt unnerved for a second, but quickly fell back into his stride. "What exactly can you do?" His voice was friendly and light, but there were certain dangerous undertones to it.

Another sigh escaped her lips. "You don't know?" Her eyes traveled away from his and towards the television, but she wasn't really watching it. "I was wondering why you called it an ability." There was something about her, familiar. Yes, she was broken. But it wasn't they way most people he "fixed" were. This was different. This was a sickness… Depression. She seemed dead inside, and her outside was on its way. He felt an intense, irrational need to fix her, but_ this_ sort of thing he didn't know how to fix. Suddenly he drew away from her. He had no idea what powers she had, but if they were doing this to her he wasn't sure he wanted them. Still, he was frustrated by her 'brokenness.' He was standing still, wanting to figure her out, yet unsure if he should go near her. He could examine her, her brain… But no, he had no idea her abilities, what if she _was_ dangerous? Or perhaps she had some sort of genetic virus? Chandra Suresh had mentioned such things. Cautiously he approached her. Slowly he reached his hand towards her forehead, she didn't move, didn't even look at him. His finger made contact with her forehead. She was cold and clammy. He used his control over cold and ice to force a raw amount of coldness to her head. Immediately she wilted, her eyes shutting. She was knocked out.

Sylar wasn't sure how long he stood there, trying to decide her fate, but eventually he heard the screen door shut up the stairs. When the old lady came down the stairs to check on her grandniece, she found her sound asleep, alone. The woman limped slowly to the tv to turn it off. Then she waddled back over towards the sleeping girl and placed a hand on her forehead.

"Poor dear, you're frozen." She pulled the girl's blanket up around her shoulder before kissing her gently on the top of the head. Then she turned to leave the room, humming softly and turning the light off.


End file.
